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And caus'd the golden-treffed fun,
All the day long his course to run.
For his &c.

The horned moon to fhine by night,
Amongst her spangled fifters bright.
For his &c.

He with his thunder-clafping hand
Smote the first-born of Egypt land.
For his &c.

And in despite of Pharao fell,
He brought from thence his Ifrael.

For his &c.

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His chofen people he did bless

In the wafteful wilderness.

For his &c.

In bloody battel he brought down
Kings of prowess and renown.

For his &c.

He foil'd bold Seon and his hoft,
That rul'd the Amorrean coaft.

For his &c.

And large-limb'd Og he did subdue,

With all his over-hardy crew.

бо

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All living creatures he doth feed,

And with full hand supplies their need.

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JOANNIS MILTONI

LONDINENSIS

POEM AT A.

Quorum pleraque intra Annum Ætatis Vigefimum confcripfit.

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